Endangered
by SaikohBellaL
Summary: Ziva's not as strong as she seems, in fact she is broken - she's a mess. Is it too late to help her? Can the team save her from herself before it's too late? Warning! Will contain Tiva and very strong self harm/suicidal themes.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters.**

**A/N: Sorry for any grammar/spelling errors, as I do not have a Beta. **

**Also, I am not under circumstances encouraging self harm/suicide. No one should ever do that. If you feel you want to, you need to go and talk to someone and get help. Because no matter what help is always there and things can always get better, you just have to let people in.  
**

* * *

Prologue

She had become filled with nothing but pain and depression and it was taking over her. She had succumb to nothing but a body that harboured years or pain, she had succumb to the desires that she told her self she would no longer indulge in - because in the end it made the situation no better, but at this point she couldn't care less.

She had convinced herself she was so far beyond help and that nothing would make any of her pain demise, she reasoned with herself that if she couldn't get any better, she couldn't get any worse... so why not just do it? That was her faulty reasoning behind it all as she picked up the delicate blade that shone under the dim lights of her living room. She looked at the old scars on her arm - they were vicious. She slowly drew the blade across her soft skin and watched the blood from her cut trickle down her arm. She drew the blade again over her skin, each slash of her blade was getting faster and more desperate. Eventually there was nothing but a bloody arm and no more room left.

It just wasn't enough though, it wasn't enough. She was angry - she was still a body harbouring pain, no amount of cutting could change that, no amount of anything could change that, could it? That was when her eyes drifted to her gun sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She reached over and picked it up. She held her gun every day, but it felt different this time. Perhaps that was because it was her own life in her own hands this time. She put the gun to her head.

Her life was so delicate, she could pull the trigger right now and end it all.


	2. Chapter 1

_"And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life."_

_- J.K. Rowling  
_

* * *

Chapter 1

Ziva sat on her couch staring at her phone, waiting for it to ring. She wasn't expecting a call, she wasn't even hoping it was from anyone in particular - she just wanted someone to talk to. Every bit of her, from her head to her heart was telling her to call up someone and just talk, tell them what was going on inside her head. She so desperately wanted someone to ask her if she was okay, or just to give her a hug. She just wanted to know that someone cared or even noticed.

Although her heart was screaming out for help, she closed her mouth and did what she did every night - put a blade to skin and cut until she was sure she was going to pass out from the pain or blood loss. She knew it wasn't healthy, she knew it wasn't what she should be doing and she knew she wasn't helping her self in anyway, but she did it anyway. Why? Because cutting is a vicious and addictive cycle that she wished she had never started. It had become some what of a necessity for Ziva, just like a smoker can't go a day with out a cigarette. It's an addiction and about as self destructing as smoking, too.

Over time the lines became blurring and she can't remember when or what made her draw that blade across her skin for the first time, but she wished she hadn't. She wished she had been strong enough to resist and to talk to someone about it, but she didn't. And now after what she could only presume was months of this self destructive cycle, she felt she was too far in. She felt she was stuck at the bottom of a black hole and no one even noticed. She felt she couldn't pull her self out and neither could any one else.

* * *

Ziva walked into the bullpen the next morning with her legs still sore from the self inflicted pain from the night before. McGee and Tony were sitting at their desk, cleaning them.

"Autumn cleaning, are we?" She asked as she sat down.

"_Spring _cleaning, Ziva. And no, just tiding considering there's not much else to do." Tony answered.

"Oh. Anyway, how are you both this morning?" She asked.

They both replied they were well but didn't bother to ask Ziva how she was. Ziva opted to think that perhaps they didn't actually care. That was it, the final breaking point. Tears welled up behind her beautiful eyes, she tried to blink them back.

"You alright, Zee?" Tony asked her, with concern in his voice.

Ziva couldn't answer, because if she did the tears would fall. She turned her head away before walking swiftly to the bathrooms.

She shut herself in a stall and let the tears fall down her soft cheeks. _David's do not cry, this is weak, _she told herself. But she just couldn't help it. There was a point where you just couldn't keep so many weeks worth of tears bottled up any longer.

"Ziva?" Tony's voice rang out through the bathroom. She didn't answer, "I know you're in here."

"Go away, Tony. Can't I have a little privacy while I am in the toilets?"

Tony scoffed, "Considering the amount of times you have followed me into the mens room - no you can't. Now come out of there, Zee." He got no response, "Please?"

Slowly the Israeli unlocked the lock and opened the door. Tony walked reached forward and wiped away the tears on her cheeks. He was gentle, he was soft and he was caring. Everything Ziva wanted was right in front of her - he was Tony and he would listen, no doubt... but would Ziva talk? If you squeezed her the right way you could get some noise out of her, but Tony didn't want to squeeze her, he just wanted her to talk.

It was fair to say that Tony was a hypocrite - he wanted Ziva to let down her mask and let him in, yet he wouldn't do the same. But he pushed that thought aside for the moment because right now was about Ziva.

Ziva.

The ninja chick who was stronger than bricks. But right now she looked so delicate, so afraid, so human. Tony could see the raw emotion in her eyes, but just couldn't figure out what that emotion was.

"What's wrong?" He asked softly.

But before Ziva even got a chance to speak McGee had opened the door. He frowned slightly at the sight before him. His eyes drifted to Ziva, he gave her a look of concern. "Sorry to, uh.. interrupt, but we've got a case. I'll gas the truck met you guys down there in a minute." He said.

"No." Ziva said, her voice was strangely strong for her state, "We will come down now."

"Don't think this is over. We are still going to talk." Tony informed her as they followed McGee out the door.

* * *

Between Ziva being an emotional mess and the fact that their victim was the 15 year old daughter of a Navy Lieutenant, the crime scene was rather straining.  
Ziva sighed as she looked of the young girl, she was so beautiful, she had short black hair with stunning blue eyes that stood out underneath the shaggy hair, and still had so much of her life ahead if her. The poor girl had hung her self, or so it looked.

McGee walked into the victims room which was also the crime scene, "Our victim's name is Lara Paisley. She's 15, the daughter of Navy Lieutenant Rick Paisley, he's on board the US Navy ship 'Destroyer' and won't be back for another 2 months. Her mother, Claire Paisley walked in and found her hanging from ceiling. Lara's mum is down stairs with the brother Connor." He said.

The atmosphere was strange - McGee was quiet, Tony didn't make one joke, Gibbs wasn't barking orders, Ducky wasn't telling a story, Jimmy didn't say much and Ziva, well, she was emotional. It was somber and it was quiet. They all went about their usual business, taking crime scene photos and sketches, witness photos, collecting evidence and such.

Ziva's eyes scanned the room of what looked like your average teenager - band posters, pictures of her and friends, a laptop, the usual things. But Ziva knew there was more to that, this girl wasn't as happy and she looked in the pictures. Ziva noticed a folded piece of paper on the bed, she picked it up and red it.

_It was never suppose to be like this, I wasn't suppose to feel this way. I wasn't suppose to feel trapped in a deep dark hole, I wasn't suppose to be like this. But I was. I couldn't take it any more, I couldn't take the pain - I couldn't take feeling the need to break out of my own body and escape the unbearable feeling of depression that was over taking me.  
Please know that I'm sorry, please know I never meant to hurt anyone, please know that I loved you all so much, but that I just couldn't keep living like this, I couldn't keep living like I was trapped inside a cage that was my mind, I couldn't bare it any longer.  
If there's one thing I have learnt in life, it is that a problem, no matter how big or how small has to be dealt with no matter what. So this is how I am dealing with my problem - by erasing it_. _But by erasing my problem that means I have_ _to erase myself to.  
I'm so sorry that I wasn't strong enough to keep going in life but know that I am now at peace and no longer in pain.  
Mum, Dad and Connor - I love you all so much._

By the time Ziva had finished reading the suicide note her hands were visibly shaking. It hit so damn close to home.

"Ziva? Ziva? Ziva? Earth to Ziva." Tony said, waving his hand in front of her face, "What is it?" He asked referring to the note. Unable to speak she simply handed it to him with shaky hands. He didn't say anything when he finished reading it, but his face was pale. He placed it with great care into an evidence bag.

After finishing up in Lara's room they made their way down stairs to where her Mum and her brother Connor were waiting. Connor looked no older that 6, he had the same blue eyes as his sisters, expect his were filled with tears. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably. His body was shaking as he sobbed, "My sister, my sister." Over and over again. He sat on a separate couch to his mother, who was sitting ridged with a blank expression on her face - she was still in shock and it hadn't quite hit her yet.

Just before the team were about to leave Ziva stopped in the door way, her eyes glued to Connor, "Give me a moment." She said walking over to the young boy. She bent down next to him over at the couch, "Connor?" She said, he looked up at her still crying, "My name is Ziva." He blinked tears at her, "Your sister was very beautiful, you must love her a lot." He nodded. Ziva sat up on the couch next to him and put her arm around him, "Lara loved you so much and she would hate to see you upset."

"She's gone." He cried into her shoulder.

"I know, baby. I know what it's like for someone you love to die. It hurts a lot, doesn't it?" He nodded at her, "It will get easier, I promise. It will stop hurting one day."

"I want her back." He sobbed.

Unsteadily Ziva repositioned herself on the couch to face Connor. "Hey." She said softly as she caught his eye. She opened her arms and the distressed young boy crawled onto her lap. She wrapped her arms around him, "I know she's gone and I know you want her back. Just remember that she loves you, okay?" She said softly, "And you never stop loving her, okay?" He nodded, "It will stop hurting." She said quietly into Connor's ear as he cried onto her shoulder. Tony could have sworn he saw a tear role down Ziva's cheek.

After a minute, Ziva reluctantly released Connor from the hug, "I have to go now." He told him, "But remember -"

Connor cut her off, "It will stop hurting."

Ziva nodded sadly, "One day... one day." She kissed the top of his head and they left the grieving family.

* * *

Ziva watched the sun go down through the window from her desk. She sighed. It had been an exhausting day. Ducky had confirmed that it was a suicide. Ziva wasn't sure if she glad it wasn't a murder or not.

She turned off her computer and gathered up her things, bidding the others a good weekend she headed for the elevator.

As Ziva got to her car she heard her name being called, she turned to see Tony, "I told you we were going to talk." He smiled.

"Now?" She sighed, she was tired.

"No, not now. I'll pick up some Chinese on my way over to your house - we will talk when I get there." He squeezed her hand gently and with out giving Ziva a chance to protest, he walked away.

Ziva could just tell that the night was going to be just as long and exhausting the day was.


	3. Chapter 2

_"You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment unless you trust enough." _

_- Frank Crane._

* * *

Trust. It was always something difficult for Ziva to embrace because her whole life she had been trained not to trust and not to open up. As a killer you're not suppose to have feelings, so they were trained right out of her, as was her trust and communication. Because as a killer those were what made you weak. And as a killer you couldn't open up, you just couldn't. It took Ziva a long time to learn how to feel and now she feels like she feels too much. Even though she has learnt to feel, she still hasn't learnt to completely open up and trust. She wasn't sure if she ever would.

If in life you trust and it is broken, that's almost as bad as not trusting in the first place. Although she would never admit it - Ziva was scared of her trust being broken. She was scared of letting someone in, she was scared of letting someone too close, because in her experience they all either died or they left.

And then there was love, when you loved you hurt and when you hurt you loved. Ziva hated falling in love. It didn't happen very often but when it did she fell hard. She tried and tried with all her might not to fall in love this time, but apparently love wasn't something she could control and she hated that. She hated things she couldn't control - especially love, because in her in her experience love always hurt - people always left, people always lied, people always died.

So now the two things she hated - love and trust were sitting on her couch in front of her eating Chinese food - it went my the name of Tony.

"Talk." Tony told her. His eyes found hers and they spoke volumes - far more than his lips did. Ziva saw the look that told her he cared, the look that told her he was there for her.

Tony saw the conflicting look and internal battle she was going through. To talk or not to talk?

"No," She said, "I can't"

"Why?"

She didn't answer, just looked down at her food.

"Why?" Tony asked again.

She sighed, "Because every time I let someone in they hurt me, every time someone gets too close they leave, every time I love I hurt."

Tony paused and took a moment to processes what she had just said, _every time I love I hurt. _What was she saying?

"Are you saying you love me?" He said slowly.

Her eyes snapped up from her food and narrowed in on him, "You should leave."

"Why didn't you deny it?

"We are not having this conversation." She said sternly.

Ziva could feel her hear racing. How did the conversation get to this? She couldn't do this. She just couldn't. She had told herself she wouldn't let people in any more, but Tony had managed to claw his way in and as far as Ziva was concerned he needed to find his way out. She just couldn't bring herself to let him in because one or both of them were bound to get hurt - it always happened like that. To avoid getting hurt she just pushed everyone away.

"You should leave." She stated.

"No, not until you talk to me."

"Tony, you do not want to know what is going on inside my head, trust me - it is best if you do not know."

"No, I do want to know otherwise I wouldn't have asked." He told her, "You need to stop shutting me out."

He reached forward and grabbed her hand and caressed her thumb gently. It sent shivers down her spine. She should have fallen in to Tony's arms in a heap and cried. She should have told him what was going on inside her head. She should have let him in. But she didn't. Because in her eyes she couldn't afford to trust or love, because that would just end in heartbreak and she couldn't deal with anymore heartbreak, she was already broken enough - she just couldn't afford to break anymore.

Ziva was so wrong about the trust and love this time, but of course she couldn't see that. So instead of doing what she should have done and let Tony help her save herself, she jerked her hand away from his and shook her head, told him the final time to leave.

Tony could see her heart was screaming for help, he could see it in her eyes - her eyes always betrayed her. He knew she needed help, he wasn't stupid. He also knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her tonight, it would be a working progress.

He got up from the couch - never breaking eye contact with her and walked to the door. "You need me." He told her and shut the door behind her.

And it was true, she did need him... and deep down she knew it.


End file.
